


it's a golden age upon us now

by Ceeninja



Series: Bowl of Oranges [3]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2020-11-09 09:32:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20851238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceeninja/pseuds/Ceeninja
Summary: Collection of missing/deleted scenes from 'I know who you are now'





	1. The Morning After (hartving)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Dig Into Waves' by Freelance Whales
> 
> Takes place at the beginning of chapter 13, the morning after the book talk + the boys drunken escapades

"Tom these eggs are amazing." Edward moaned around his fork. "What did you do to them?"

Tom smiled. "Thanks, it's a family recipe." He winked. " The secret ingredient is just a touch of sour cream." 

"I had sour cream?" Edward asked.

Thomas rolled his eyes fondly. "I picked up a few groceries yesterday. You cannot survive on cereal and tv dinners alone."

"I've been doing alright so far." Edward said, taking a swig of orange juice. 

Thomas pointed his fork at him. "That. That right there is the only reason you don't have scurvy." he paused. "Again."

John watched this conversation in amusement, slowly sipping his own orange juice and praying that the ibuprofen he took would kick in soon. Tom deposited more eggs onto his plate, leaning over John as he did so. 

"S'cuse me John." he said. "Looked like you needed seconds." Tom grinned. "You feeling okay?" 

John groaned. "I'm never drinking again." 

Thomas muttered an agreement from across the table. Edward laughed and ruffled his hair. "But you're such a cute drunk."

"Hnnng" he replied, shoving toast in his mouth.

"Look at these two," Tom nudged John's shoulder. "Sickeningly adorable." 

He quickly dodged the half eaten piece of toast Thomas chucked at him. "You're one to talk." 

Tom blushed slightly and John felt his own face flush. He didn't remember things very clearly, but he did remember holding Tom's hand, and when he woke that morning, Tom had been pressed into his side on the couch, his nose nuzzled in John's neck. John had quickly disentangled them, but had almost immediately regretted the loss of warmth.

John finished his eggs and toast silently, lost in his own thoughts. Tomorrow he had church, and for the first time, the idea of going filled him with dread instead of joy.He knew what he should do, but he wasn't quite ready to accept it. 

"John?"

"Hmm? Sorry. What was that?"

"I asked if you needed me to drop you at your car." Edward repeated, a look of concern shadowing his features.

"Yes, thank you." John said quickly.

The other three stared at him.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked gently.

"I think I need to quit seminary school" John blurted out awkwardly.

They continued to stare blankly at him, so he rushed to finish his thoughts. "This week has been a lot. And I've had to rethink, well, everything. I've realized that maybe I've been...hiding a bit."

Tom put his hand on his shoulder reassuringly. John swallowed thickly. "I..I don't want to stop going to church but I..."

"Come with me then."

John looked up suddenly. "What?"

"Yeah, come with me to mine. It's non-denominational, and friendly to all folks. I started going there after I came out. Really nice people." he smiled warmly.

John's mind skipped like a record. "After you came out?" he managed to say.

Edward sighed audibly and pinched the bridge of his nose. Thomas looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

Tom smiled wryly. "John," he said, and tugged him up out of his chair. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" 

He steered them back into the living area for privacy. Not that Edward and Thomas couldn't still see them, but if they talked quietly, their voices wouldn't carry.

"Did you not notice?" Tom asked. "John, I've been fond of you since...well since 1847, but I was actually trying to be obvious about it last night."

John blinked rapidly. "You were flirting with me?"

Tom laughed. "Yes, John."

"I don't really know what to say." John confessed.

Tom shrugged his shoulder. "Don't have to say anything. I know you're still coming to terms with things, and it's fine if you don't feel the same way." He said in a seemingly nonchalant tone.

"No-no, I do!" John replied quickly, the words tumbling over each other. "I'm just not..."

Tom's face lit up with a smile. 'S'okay. We can take it slow, if you want." He reached out a hand tentatively. 

"Seriously? Right in front of my eggs?" Edward hollered, grinning lewdly.

Tom started laughing. John furrowed his brows, confused.

"It's a meme." Tom explained between gasps.

"What-what's a meme?" 

There was a soft thud as Thomas thunked his head on the table. 

"Unbelievable."


	2. Aquarium (goodsir)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set somewhere in the two week gap.

Harry watched the jellyfish bob up and down in their tank with newly reignited fascination. He'd never have imagined, before, being able to see a jellyfish up close, and alive. But here it was, not two inches from his nose, undulating in the current, its tendrils waving in the water, so translucent he could barely see them. He couldn't help himself. He put his hand up to the glass, despite the signs telling him not to.

"Hello." He said. "What a beautiful creature you are."

It was amazing, thinking of all of the things he'd taken for granted in this century. Aquariums. Cell phones. Fast food. Vaccines. He'd thought the world a beautiful place before, of course. Nature held many wonders, but people, well, they'd disappointed him in the end. It was heartening to see that, overall, people had improved, shown themselves to be truly good, as he'd hoped.

It wasn't perfect, and there was certainly still evil in the world, but Harry had quickly promised himself he would never slide back into the despair he'd felt in the Artic. There was so much to live for in this day and age, so much to hope for.

He'd moved past the jellyfish tank, and was watching a school of chichlid dash around lightning fast, their bright scales shimmering in the dim light. A schooling fish, he remembered. Does best in groups. Much like himself, and the rest of his friends.

At first it was overwhelming to re-meet everyone, to attempt to reconcile the people he'd known with the people they are, though there didn't seem to be much difference in personality--only upbringings and experiences. Now he was thankful for their presence in his life. He wasn't sure he could do this alone. No man is an island, after all.

He'd reached his favorite exhibit now. The seals. He'd seen them many times of course, but now they held a new meaning to him. Harry watched as they swam back and forth, chasing each other around their tank. They were elegant in their movements; it was almost like watching an underwater ballet.

He put his fingers against the cool glass, which made one seal look at him with a puzzled expression, or what Harry thought was puzzlement. The naturalist in him chided him for personifying animal expressions. 

He thought of the Artic, naturally; of the seals he had spotted off of Baffin Bay, and of Silna. The days spent in the hold of the Erebus, learning the Inuktitut words for seal, and seal-hunting, and the names of the tools they used. Her soft fur coat. Her warm eyes.

He would have to bring her to see the seals sometime.


	3. Apologies (Silna & Tom Hartnell)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in chapter 15.

Silna listened as Crozier reassured the men. She admired the way he spoke with such certainty, even when there was none. It had the desired effect; soon any tension left evaporated, and the group decided to take advantage of the rest of their evening together.

The back room was cramped, and since they didn't need complete privacy anymore, they all slowly relocated to the front again. They took several tables in the corner furthest from the bar, though still within view of Blanky, who was chatting enthusiastically with his patrons. Silna could see why he'd chosen this occupation, he had a lively spirit.

Silna sat next to Harry of course, with Tuunbaq tucked under her legs, mostly hidden from view. He snuffed at this, a low whine escaping the back of his throat.

Images of iron bars, darkness, and a feeling of despair flowed from Tuunbaq to her mind.

"You're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?" She said with mirth.

Tuunbaq whined again.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Nothing, just Tuunbaq. He doesn't like being under the table." Silna explained.

Harry chuckled and patted the beast on his head. "Oh how the mighty have fallen, hm?"

Tuunbaq nipped his hand, which made both of them laugh. Silna caught Harry's eye as he looked up and they held each other’s gaze for a tense moment. They'd not spoken about the phone call, the words Harry had let slip. Silna didn't mind, in fact it quite pleased her, but she didn't want to embarrass him further by acknowledging it. She settled for giving him a reassuring smile.

He returned it tenfold.

Silna got up then to grab them drinks, but she didn't get more than a few feet from the table before she was stopped by one of the men. She squinted at him a moment, trying to recall his name.

"Ms. Silence? Er, Silna, sorry. Do you have a moment?" he asked, almost shyly.

She nodded, and gestured to the bar. They took two seats away from the crowd.

Silna flagged down Blanky to order her and Harry's drinks. A cosmopolitan for him, and an IPA for her.

"Be just a mo' on the mixed drink." Blanky said. "Got quite the crowd tonight."

"Take your time." Silna responded, before turning to the awkward man again. 

He squirmed, but she could tell he was trying very hard not to. "I uh, well, I wanted to give a proper apology. About before."

Ah. She recognized him now. One of the men who kidnapped her. Anger flashed in her gut. But, she also remembered he was the one who had gathered her father's belongings, and been kind enough to pack her food.

_"Condolences, Lady Silence."_

She hadn't understood his words then, but she had felt the sincerity in them. On his face had been a similar pain, like he'd also lost someone. It had hurt her a great deal to see his face among her captors.

"Why did you do it?" She asked.

He looked her directly in the eye, which Silna appreciated. "Hickey made it sound like we were doing good. Protecting the ship. He was persuasive. Should've never listened to him. We were lashed for it, as we deserved."

Silna couldn't hide her horror. "I'm not sure capital punishment was ever deserved."

"You're very kind. But believe me, it helped straighten me out. I regret my actions, and if there is anything I can do for you moving forward, all you need to do is ask."

The same sincerity from before was painted across his face, as well as a look of resignation. He didn't expect to be forgiven.

Silna pressed her lips together. It was one of her most traumatic memories of that time, and it would haunt her still, that terrible trek across the ice, pulling at her restraints and yelling, pleading with the men to let her go. She remembered all too well the guilty, pained looks he would shoot her as they walked, and in the many days after.

The other men who took her had never showed a shrivel of remorse, and continued to glare at her throughout her time with them. She'd sacrificed so much for them, and yet they still looked on her in disdain, save for those few she trusted. 

And this one.

"What's your name?" Silna asked.

"Tom. Tom Hartnell." 

She looked him in the eye, and gave him the faintest whisper of a smile.

"I forgive you, Tom."


	4. Mixing (Tom + Blanky)

Tom, with his tongue between his teeth in utter concentration, carefully poured the vodka into the glass. He unscrewed the cap on the orange juice next, and with equal care, poured it as well.

"Son, it's just a screwdriver, you can relax." Blanky chuckled from behind him. "Save that level of concentration for the hard stuff."

"What's the hard stuff then?" Tom asked eagerly.

Blanky pondered the question for a few moments. "A proper Bloody Mary. A Mojito during a rush. Getting an Old Fashioned right takes some doing." He slapped him on the shoulder. "You'll pick it up fast."

Tom couldn't help but grin at the praise. "Thank you, sir."

He put his practice drink in the back room fridge and hoped it would still be good after his shift tonight. It was only his third shift, and Blanky had him bussing tables and wiping down counters mostly, but when it was slow, he made sure to teach Tom a new drink.

Tom found it to be rewarding work, and he was more invested in drink making than he expected to be. The only thing he wasn't keen on was some of the more flirtatious patrons. 

"Hey cutie." A clearly inebriated voice said from the table next to him.

Tom cringed inwardly and ignored the young woman, and quickly cleared the table he was cleaning before making a hasty retreat to the safety of the bar. He dropped the glasses in the sink and exhaled.

Blanky chuckled. "Barely escaped eh?"

Tom gave him what he knew was a pathetic, helpless look, which only made Blanky laugh harder.

"Sorry lad, you'll be getting that a lot I imagine, handsome face like that." Blanky said as he shook up a martini. "Best discourage them any chance you get, or you'll have a whole fan club by your second week here."

Tom frowned. This was a problem he had not anticipated. He looked down at himself and couldn't figure out what people could possibly be interested in. Tom was still puzzling out why _John_ liked him, for god's sake.

Tom's heart beat ever so faster at the thought of his not-quite-boyfriend. They'd been doing whatever it was they were doing for about a week now, and Tom was happier than he'd even been, and they'd not even kissed yet. He just loved to be around him, regardless of what they were doing. Going to church or sitting around John's flat, reading quietly, snuggled up under John's extra large quilt he'd made. 

It was a hideous thing, clearly a first attempt, and Tom had had to needle him relentlessly to even get him to show it to him. Eventually John had pulled it out of his closet, all but throwing it at Tom. It was blue and green, with some kind of attempted pattern crisscrossing the front. One side was comically longer than the others, making more of a trapezoidal shape than a rectangle.

Tom was extremely fond of it. It had mysteriously ended up in his own flat more than a few times, though he always brought it back.

Tom was shaken out of his daydreaming by the loud persistent noise of Blanky snapping his fingers in front of Tom's face.

"Tom. Tommy. Where did you go?" Blanky asked.

"Hmm? Oh! Oh sorry sir, just thinking." Tom shook himself and picked up his bussing tray again.

"Uh. Huh." Blanky deadpanned. "Y'know, why don't you bring John by a few times? That should discourage any potential suitors." He elbowed him in the side and smiled.

Tom blinked. How Blanky knew he was thinking about John, he had no idea. Even more baffling was his assumption that they were a thing. They'd not told anyone, save for Thomas and Edward, and they weren't the type to gossip.

Blanky seemed to read his thoughts again. "You're very obvious Tom. It's cute, that you two think you're subtle." He tilted his head. "Not as blatant as Little and Jopson, doubt anyone could beat Edward's doe eyed expressions, but I can tell."

Tom felt himself turn red. "John doesn't want to say anything yet, he's....nervous. You know how he is."

"Oh yes. Don't worry, I won't say anything." Blanky clapped him on the shoulder. "To be fair, I don't need to, I'm fairly certain a blind man could see it. But," he gave a soft smile. "we all respect your privacy."

"Now," he continued. "After this crowd clears out tonight, what do you say to trying your hand at The Commonwealth?"

Tom eagerly agreed, and went about the rest of his shift, splitting his time between dodging drunken offers of a good time while he bussed tables, and watching Blanky's expert hand produce drink after drink.

It was only as Blanky handed him the ingredient list for the Commonwealth that his resolve crumbled.

"Seventy-one ingredients?" He gasped.

Blanky's cackle echoed off the walls of the bar.


	5. Birthday(joplittle)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 203rd Birthday Thomas Jopson!
> 
> This story is set slightly ahead of where we are in 'I know who you are now' so super mild character spoiler for that.
> 
> Also done to fill the 'birthday' prompt on my terror bingo card!

Thomas cursed his and Edward's upstairs flat as he carried a very heavy load of groceries up the stairs. His load was lightened, metaphorically, by the melodious sound of Edward's voice floating down from an open window.

Thomas could only make out snippets of words, but it sounded like he was talking on the phone with someone.

"--has to be perfect"

"Yes, I know it's really last min-"

"Do you think I should--"

"That is a terrible idea."

"Oh shit, here he comes-"

Moments later he heard Edward calling his name, leaning out the window and waving like a fool.

Thomas smiled. "Hey! Can you help me with the door?"

Edward nodded before disappearing, reappearing at the top of the stairs moments later. He hopped down them two at a time, landing in front of Thomas with a smile.

"Happy Birthday." He said, leaning in for a kiss and to unburden Thomas of a few bags."You didn't have to stop and get groceries. Bad enough you worked today."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "I did need to get groceries. We were out of milk. And I'm not going to take off just because it's my birthday." 

Thomas got the groceries inside, Edward following closely behind. They put everything away in comfortable silence, though Thomas could tell Edward was tense.

"Edward, what are you planning?" Thomas asked wryly. 

"Hmm? Me? Nothing." he replied in what Thomas assumed he thought was a nonchalant way.

Thomas sighed. He knew exactly what was happening.

"You don't need to do anything special for my birthday. We can go out for dinner just us, then meet everyone for drinks at Blanky's. 

"I wasn't planning anything special." Edward lied.

Thomas reached out to Edward, who took his hand with a sheepish grin. "You're trying to. Edward, spending the day with you and our friends is celebration enough."

Edward was looking at his shoes, the wall, anywhere but at Thomas when he spoke. 

"I just want to make sure this birthday is better than the last." he said quietly. 

"Last birthday I spent the whole night at work. Already an improvement." Thomas replied lightly.

"Not the birthday I was talking about."

"Yeah, I know." Thomas sighed. "Edward, please stop torturing yourself about that. It was literally a lifetime ago."

"I left you to die. Alone. On your birthday." he said with anguish. 

"You planned on coming back." Thomas soothes, rubbing circles into his knuckles.

Edward wrenched his hand away. "But you didn't know that! I deserve your anger. I cannot fathom why you forgave me." Edward cried.

Thomas chased after him and retook his hand. 

"Because we were dying. We were all going to die. You had lead poisoning for christ's sake! No man could make a sound decision in that condition. You did the best you could with the information you had. Edward, it wasn't your fault." he said emphatically.

Edward let out a shaky breath before collapsing onto Thomas shoulder. He held him firmly, his hands reaching up to stroke the base of his neck and the soft curls there.

They stayed that way for several minutes, Edward muttering incoherently into Thomas's shoulder while Thomas murmured soothing nothings in return.

Finally the sobs resided and Edward hitched a breath. "Oh god, I've ruined your jumper." he sniffed. 

Thomas removed it in a swift motion, leaving him in his undershirt. "It'll wash." he said. "Now, let's clean up hm? It's my birthday, and I heard boyfriend is taking me out to dinner."

Edward sniffed again, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Normally Thomas would chastise him to use a handkerchief, but he let it slide. 

"Right." then, softer. "Thank you."

Thomas kissed him softly. "You're welcome."

\---------

Dinner was delicious. Edward took him to his favorite sushi place and convinced Thomas to splurge on the chef's special.

They ate slowly, enjoying both the meal and each other's company. Thomas still found great joy in being able to openly hold Edward's hand across the table.

Edward ended up drinking just a bit too much sake, so Thomas drove his car to Blanky's, telling everyone he was limiting Edward to two drinks only, since he had 'pre gamed' a little too hard.

Most everyone was in attendance. They had taken to using each others birthdays, accomplishments and even minor holidays for a chance to bring everyone together. They had truly become not just a crew, or a group of people thrown together again by fate, but a family. Thomas said so in his birthday toast, earning him several exaggerated groans from his audience, but he saw a few watery smiles too.

Blanky began a rousing rendition of 'for he's a jolly good fellow', and in true Navy custom, they all leapt upon Thomas and buried him in a tackle, (except for Crozier who said he was too dignified for such a thing. James called him a liar and threw a napkin at him). He attempted an escape but was thwarted by Peglar's elbow, Tom's leg and all of Tuunbaq.

"Okay, okay! Get off." he laughed.

Someone, he thinks it was John, pulled him to his feet. He stumbled slightly, falling back into Edward, who immediately enveloped him in his arms and planted a kiss on his hair.

"Happy Birthday!" everyone shouted. 

Silna pulled a party popper and made everyone jump. Much to his surprise, she then also reached under the bar and produced a cake.

"Oh no, you didn't have to do that." he said.

"Wasn't me. Harry wanted to." she replied with a proud smile. Goodsir stood next to her blushing.

"Well thank you Dr." Thomas grinned.

It was simply a sheet cake with _Happy Birthday Thomas!_ piped on the top by a careful hand, but it looked delicious.

"It's strawberry!" Goodsir said. "Edward said that's your favorite."

"It is." Thomas replied, touched.

It was as tasty as it looked, and he helped himself to two servings, much to Goodsir's obvious delight. 

After cake, another dogpile, consisting of a very drunk Henry Peglar and an equally tipsy Henry Collins, and one more round of drinks, they headed home.

"How'd you like your birthday?" Edward asked, putting an arm around his shoulder.

"It was perfect." Thomas replied, pulling him in for a kiss.


	6. Dress Code (hartving)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by [ this amazing art by flurgburgler](https://ceilingninja.tumblr.com/post/189494325097/flurgburgler-i-was-like-hmm-sure-could-do-with)
> 
> Beta'd as always by the lovely fellowshipofthegay

"Alright Hartnell, nice work tonight. Go on and get out of here." Blanky said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"But there's still a half-hour left on my shift?" Tom replied, brow furrowed in confusion.

Blanky smiled. "Thought I'd let you off early so you would have time to spruce up."

Tom continued to look baffled. Blanky sighed.

"For your date? Unless you're telling me you're going dressed like that?" he said, gesturing to Tom's hoodie.

Tom looked down at himself. "What's wrong with this?" he said, pulling at a strap of his overalls. 

"Nothing. If you don't wanna get laid."

Blanky laughed as Tom turned a dark maroon color. 

\-----

Tom stood in front of his mirror with a frown, holding up a suit jacket. 

"Ugh, no, that makes you look like you're a nervous kid at prom." his sister scoffed, her voice high and tinny over Facetime.

"I don't even know why I'm so worried. I've known John for years, he's seen me in, well." he cut himself off. "I don't think he'll care about what I'm wearing."

"Thought you met him last month?" his sister replied because of course, she caught his slip up.

"Well, uh, I've seen him around," he said lamely.

"Small town like London, sure." she teased. "Whatever, I'm just glad you met him. He seems nice."

Tom exhaled, glad she'd moved on. He picked up a pair of slacks. "What about these?"

\-------

In the end, he ended up not changing his clothes. It might not be the fanciest outfit in the world, but dammit it was comfortable, and Tom felt a little less exposed under the layers.

He made his way to John's flat, feeling a little nervous and excited. This would be their first outing as a couple, without the protection of the rest of the group. John had shaken like a leaf when he suggested it. He wasn't out to his family yet and worried about being seen.

"Not-not that I don't want to be seen with you! I would love everyone in the world to know we're together. It's just…" he had babbled.

"Scary, yeah." Tom had agreed.

"Obviously it's worlds better than it was but it's not perfect and-"

"I know." 

It had taken a little more convincing, but they got there. Now here he was, knocking on John's door at 7 pm sharp, in his usual outfit, feeling woefully underprepared.

John answered so fast he had to have been waiting by the door. His blushing face was another clue to his over-eagerness. 

He looked stunning of course. A cream turtleneck sweater paired with a dark trenchcoat and his extremely nice dress shoes. Tom immediately felt like an idiot.

"Hi." John smiled.

"Hey," Tom replied. "You look amazing."

John gave him a pleased, but confused look. "Just wearing what I normally do. You look great."

Tom scoffed. "I didn't even change after work." He looked down at his scuffed trainers.

"Sorry," he said, still speaking to his shoes.

"Whatever for?" John asked.

"Well, if you wanted to go somewhere nice tonight, I'm afraid I've not followed the dress code."

"Hey," John said, and gently tilted his head up. "If I'd planned something like that, I would've warned you. Besides, I don't think either of us would feel comfortable at a five-star restaurant."

"Yeah," he said, for lack of anything better.

John hadn't removed his hand from Tom's chin and was stroking his beard absentmindedly. He noticed what he was doing and, rather than pull away embarrassed like he might have a week ago, he closed the distance and kissed him.

"Besides," John murmured against his lips. "you look hot in overalls."


	7. Like a member of the family (hartving)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for use of a homophobic slur

Tom saw John's face light up the phone and smiled.

"Hey you."

"Gregory's dead."

"What?" Tom gasped. "Are you sure? Maybe his battery is just drained."

"He's been sitting on the charging dock all night. I tried everything. Unplugging the dock, turning him off and on, I don't know what to do."

John's voice cracked a little as he spoke, and Tom clearly heard the frustration in his voice. 

"Can you come over?" John sniffled into the phone.

Tom was already putting on his shoes. "I'll be there in five. We'll figure it out. Don't give up hope."

He hopped back on his bike and sped across town. Gregory may be just a roomba, but John was terribly fond of it, and for it to stop working was akin to a pet passing away. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

John had been under immense stress the last few days, and Tom knew any little thing could set him over the edge.

He almost stumbled over John when he opened the door to his flat. He was sitting cross legged on the floor, staring morosely at Gregory and its charging station.

"Hey," Tom said, hanging up his coat on the nearby rack. He kneeled down next to him, and looked him in the eyes.

"Warranty expired last month." John replied in a hollow tone. "I don't know where the instructions are, and I've not had any luck getting him to turn on. I think he's done for."

Tom laid a gentle kiss on John's forehead. "Well, let me take a crack at it hm? Why don't you go relax for a bit?"

John nodded slowly and accepted Tom's hand up. "Thanks for coming. I feel stupid getting so worked up."

"Nah, it's not stupid. You've had this thing, what? Three years? And your mum gave it to you as a going away present, yeah?"

"Mm, when I left for seminary school. Which I'm not in anymore,so I suppose it's fitting for it to die." John said glumly. "I couldn't make it, so neither did it."

Tom assumed this had been about more than the roomba, but was still distressed that he was right.

He rubbed John's shoulder. "What's really bothering you? That you quit seminary?"

"My father called earlier."

"Ah."

"He's pissed I dropped out."

Tom blinked rapidly. "What? I thought he hated that you were going?"

John snorted. "Oh he did. Thought I was wasting my life, wanting to be a priest."

"Then what the fuck is his problem?" Tom huffed.

"Well now I'm a quitter, for one. 'Can never follow through on anything' he said." John said, mimicking a deeper voice with a stronger Scottish accent.

John quieted and Tom had to nudge him to continue. He inhaled sharply.

"He also said he'd rather have a priest for a son than a faggot." he whispered.

A heavy silence fell on the room as quickly as an anvil falling from the sky. It lasted one, two painful seconds, before Tom gently pushed John away to grab his jacket and hastily put it back on.

"Right then, what's his address? I believe he and I should have a chat." he snarled.

John grabbed onto his pant leg firmly. "Tom, no."

"That's not okay, John. He can't just say that to you!" Tom hissed. "Who does he think he is? Why should he get to say that without consequence?"

"Well for one, he lives in Edinburgh." John smiled weakly. 

"Trains are fast now."

"And secondly," he continued. "more importantly, Tom, I knew he would react this way. He didn't like who I was when I was trying to impress him, I can't imagine he'd like me as I really am."

Tom's heart broke at the resigned look on John's face. "Alright," he said. "But if he starts shit, he will have to deal with me. And probably everyone else too." Tom added as an afterthought.

"Don't say anything to them, please." John asked, wide eyed.

Tom grasped his hands. "I won't." 

John sighed in relief. "Thanks. I just don't want my father to be beaten an inch from death, even if he is a prick."

"Well if you change your mind…"

"Thanks." John smiled, fully this time. 

"Anytime, love. Now." he clapped his hands together. "let's see what can be done with poor Gregory hm?"

Sadly, it turned out there was nothing they could do to make the machine power back on. With genuine sadness, John took Gregory and his charging station out to the recycling bin.

Tom waited inside with a mug of tea and John's favorite biscuits that he'd picked up for him waiting on a china plate. He watched as John crossed the parking lot, head hung low with his hands in his pockets, and his heart seized.

Moments later, John was opening the door and Tom put a smile back on his face. "Hey." he said.

"Hey." John replied. "Thanks for taking the trip over here."

"Of course. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything for him." Tom said, pulling back a chair and gesturing for John to sit.

John sat and accepted the mug and picked up a cookie to nibble. "Mm, it was his time. Poetic really. One of the last vestiges of my old life. Well, not that old life but–"

Tom chuckled. "I know what you mean. Last reminder of trying to be someone you're not."

"Yeah. It‐it feels good. Like I can focus on moving forward for once." he hummed and finished his biscuit, before taking another. "Thank you."

Tom nodded and reached for John's hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. 

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes before John spoke again. 

"We should get another one. One that can be ours with no awkward memories attached." 

Tom didn't miss that John had said 'we', even though they didn't live together. "Yeah." he agreed. "What would you name it."

John shrugged. "Not sure. Do you have any ideas?"

Immediately, Tom thought of "stabby the roomba" and the dozens of images of roombas with knives taped to them. He laughed out loud.

"Betsy."


End file.
